Eliana sat by the window of the hotel suite, glass of red wine in her hand, staring out at the city lights like they could answer the question she was too tired to ask anymore:
What am I even waiting for?
Her friends were in the other room laughing, popping open more champagne, choosing outfits that glittered. They were excited for a night out. For her birthday. For something to celebrate.
She had said yes to this weekend because she wanted to forget. Or at least try. But now that she was here, with the music thumping faintly from the street below and the scent of her own perfume lingering on her collarbone, the ache was louder than ever.
She wasn't just heartbroken,she was haunted.
By him.
By what could never be.
Three years of watching him from behind a screen had taken a toll she couldn't explain. She knew his life better than she knew her own some days. Where he played. Who he trained with. His post-match interviews. The way he kissed his son on the forehead after every game. The rare, genuine smile that broke his otherwise unreadable expression.
She told herself it was admiration.
She told herself it was curiosity.
But she knew the truth.
It was love.
A strange, sad kind of love one-sided, delusional, and hopeless. The kind of love that kept her awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering what her life could've been if she had stayed in Toronto. If she had found him sooner. If fate had dealt them a kinder hand.
"You're not living, Elia," her cousin had told her two weeks ago, pouring her another espresso. "You're dreaming yourself into silence."
And it was true.
She had slowly withdrawn from life. Her career was solid, but uninspired. She hadn't picked up a sketchbook in months, though fashion used to ignite something fiery in her. She hadn't dated seriously in years. She hadn't let anyone in. Not really.
Because deep down, she still belonged to that boy.
That moment.
That name.
Kai.
"What kind of woman lets her life freeze for a man she hasn't seen in two decades?"
Me, her heart whispered.
She pressed the wine glass to her lips, then stopped. Her hands were trembling.
Her phone was nearby. She could feel its weight. Like a drug waiting to be taken. She had promised herself she wouldn't check his page tonight. Not on her birthday. Not while pretending to move on. But temptation had always been stronger than her resolve.
She picked it up anyway.
His latest post was from yesterday. A photo of his son on his shoulders at the beach, both laughing under the golden sun. The caption read:
"The only team I'll never leave."
Eliana's heart cracked like thin ice.
He looked happy. Whole. Grounded. And why shouldn't he be? He had fought for everything. Risen from nothing. From a lonely boy on the sidewalk to the king of the field. He didn't need love from a ghost. From a woman he met once as a child and forgot.
"You're so foolish," she whispered to herself, voice shaking.
And yet, tears blurred her vision.
Not because he was happy.
But because she couldn't let him go.
She didn't want to want him. She didn't want to crave the memory of his voice, the image of his face, the fantasy of his arms around her. She didn't want to still believe deep in the corners of her soul that they were meant somehow.
But she did.
And that was the hardest truth of all.
She was a prisoner to a story that never even started.
"Eliana?" A soft knock on the door, followed by her friend Sienna's voice. "We're heading down to the club. You coming?"
She wiped her cheeks quickly and forced a smile, even though no one could see it.
"Yeah," she called back. "Give me five minutes."
She stood slowly, her limbs heavy with exhaustion,emotional more than physical. She glanced in the mirror. Her makeup was perfect. Her dress was modest but elegant, hugging her hips like silk wrapped in sin. She looked beautiful. Desirable.
But inside, she felt hollow.
She wasn't going out to celebrate her birthday.
She was going out to bury a part of herself.
To drown him in music and alcohol and maybe find the version of herself that didn't wait by a phone screen for glimpses of a man who would never call.
And so she left the hotel room.
She walked into the night, unaware that fate had quietly taken its seat behind the curtain, ready for its next act.
Because downstairs,in the shadows of music and desire,he was already there.
And whether she was ready or not…
Her world was about to change forever.